


Covers

by aberdeenrose



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Family, Friendship, Healing, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:07:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6887086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aberdeenrose/pseuds/aberdeenrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsie Hughes is young and brand-new at Downton Abbey, but that hasn't stopped little Lady Edith from taking a keen liking to her. </p><p>Here follows some snippets of the friendship between Elsie Hughes and Lady Edith--two lost souls in an ever changing England.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Covers

**Author's Note:**

> I love me some Elsie and I love me some Edith (I'm like the Edith of my family) and I want them to be friends so bad.

Elsie undid her braid after a long day.

The brown curls fell long past her shoulders, almost past her elbows. Even brushing out her hair served tasking. She yawned mid-stroke. Her brush settled back into place. She'd have to to a good job in the morning.

The pillow coddled her head. Sleep came in the blink of an eye, spiraling her into a dream less sleep. A heavy, needed sleep.

Deep into her slumber, she'd begun to dream of her childhood. The Scottish cliffs. The chilled air. Her short legs letting her sprint through the tall grass, toward her older brother. She yelled for him, giddy of his return from Western Europe. Usually, in her dream, she made it to him and he swept her into his arms. They played until well after sundown. Tonight, though, she yelled and he didn't hear her. She yelled and yelled for her brother, but he heard nothing. Elsie sprinted for him as he took one step forward, throwing himself off of the beautiful cliff.

Elsie jerked upright in her bed. Sweat settling on her brow. Chest heaving with fear.

It was a memory she'd tried to bury deep deep down inside of her. Many of the days, she'd succeeded. But tonight she saw it clear as the day it had happened.

"Mrs. Hughes?" A small Lady Edith stood at the end of Elsie's bed, clutching her blanket, panic stretched across her face.

"Lady Edith, why are you out of bed, child?"

The ten-year-old tucked her head and whispered her fears of the lashing rain and worry of her father's return.

When Elsie suggested to take the young girl back to bed, but Edith began to sniffle, squeezing her blanket even tighter.

"Mrs. Hughes, might I sleep with you?"

Elsie pulled the blankets back and called for her. The blonde child scrambled onto the bed. Her knees curled into her chest. The plump cheek rested on Elsie's arm as they curled into one another. Edith still sniffles, her tears rolling onto Elsie's nightgown.

"Shhh, now, your papa will be home safe." Elsie stroked the back of her finger along the girl's face.

The rain beat against the window pane and with a roar of thunder to wake the dead, Edith sobbed. Elsie first hummed a lullaby from her mother. The soft Scottish words filled the air. The sobs quieted to sniffles. Sniffles to silence. Silence to soft snores.

And soon, Elsie fell to sleep again.

○○●●○○●●○○

Elsie let the small girl sleep as she dressed behind the closet door. When she went to walk downstairs, she scooped Edith into her arms.

"Mrs. Hughes?" Mr. Carson's voice questioned her from down the hallway. "Is that?"

Elsie shushed him, trying to keep the girl sleeping.

Together, they walked down the stairs to the girls' bedroom. Lady Mary slept in her bed, blankets in place and stuffed teddy next to her head. Lady Sybil had all but kicked her blankets off. Hair a mess around her face.

Elsie rested Lady Edith in her bed, retucking her in.

She shifted under the covers without opening her eyes. The sweet faces of the Crawley girls dreamt of sweet things.

Elsie couldn't stop a few tears from rolling down her face. Tears of jealously. In some ways, they were her girls, but not in the ways she longed for. Not in a family way. Elsie closed the door on the girls. The back of her hand brushed away her tears.

There, in the hallway, stood Mr. Carson.

A confused look plastered on his face. Mr. Carson.

The closest thing she'd have to a husband.

Great.


End file.
